Moving On
by BlackMoonShine
Summary: Buffy is raped and Spike is the one who finds her. She finds out some things about his past and they both deal with their hurt, from other people and from each other. Mentions of non-graphic rape. Buffy/Spike


Warning: Mentions of non-con f/m and non-con m/m

This is set after season 7, but instead of Sunnydale caving in, they averted the disaster in good old BTVS fashion. I.E. life moves on.

This is my first BTVS fic, and a pairing I don't usually enjoy, Buffy/Spike

Hope you guys like. And it should go without saying that I don't own the characters.

* * *

Buffy stumbled over her feet and grabbed the nearest object to retain her balance, which happened to be a tree as she was walking past the cemetery to get home. That's all her foggy mind wanted, was to get home and sleep.

"Whoa, Slayer, have a bit too much to drink on your hot date?" Spike took it the rumpled clothing, feeling a sting of jealousy, knowing what she had gotten up to with her date. She was wearing a simple black dress and he noticed for the first time that she was barefoot. Her feet were cut up but she didn't even seem to notice. "Buffy, are you okay?" He flinched when her head turned slowly and looked blankly at him, as if she had just noticed that he was there. He noticed the glazed eyes, definitely not from drunkenness, and the stumbling way he had seen her walk. "Fuck. We've got to get you home."

Buffy didn't protest when he scooped her up in his arms and started walking towards her house. She didn't say anything; just let the rhythmic jostling movement put her to sleep.

"It's a good thing I was already invited in," he muttered to the unconscious young woman in his arms. She said nothing. He turned on the light and kicked the front door closed behind him, thankful when it appeared that no one else was home. He really didn't want to walk in with the slayer in his arms and get staked for his trouble. He brought her upstairs and placed her on top of her bed. He went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth. He turned on the light on her nightstand and began cleaning her face. He felt a low grow vibrate through his chest. There were scrapes on her face and when he inspected, there were tell-tale bruises on her wrist. She woke up and blinked at him slowly.

"Go back to sleep Buffy." He whispered. The drugs, and he had no doubt that she had been drugged, were keeping her in a dream-like state. They'd have to wait until her accelerated healing flushed out the drugs. Her eyes closed again. When he had cleaned her up as much as he could, he threw his duster over one chair and settled himself into an armchair and watched Buffy sleep.

* * *

Buffy woke up a couple of hours before sunrise. She felt disoriented and weak. And she had such an awful nightmare… She sat up and froze; the pain in her lower abdomen and the sight of Spike sleeping in the chair made her gasp for air around the sobs that threatened to choke her. It hadn't been a dream. She really had gone on that date, and he really had drugged her, and he really had raped her. How was she supposed to deal with this? How did she explain to Giles and the gang that this hadn't happened at the hands of a powerful demon or vampire, but a regular old human?

The bed ducked under her and she turned and buried her head into the crook Spike's arms made as they wrapped around her, holding her. He had carried her last night, she vaguely remembered. He rubbed her back soothingly. "Cry it out." Was all he said. Not "It'll be fine"; because she knew it would never be fine again. She knew she should pull away, make him leave and freak out and sob and punch things while she was alone and pretend nothing happened when the others were around. It's not like she had never done it before. She also knew that while he may not be the "enemy" anymore, he wasn't a friend. They had been keeping their distance since the fiasco with the First. And now he was here, in her house, seeing her crying and freaking out.

Her fingers unconsciously gripped his shirt as she soaked it with her tears. Her chest felt on fire and she couldn't draw in a full breath. Strong hands gripped her arms and forced her upright. "Breathe, You're going to pass out if you keep doing that." She tried to concentrate on him as she pulled her breathing back under control. She noticed how sad he looked, dark circles like bruises under his eyes. He didn't look at all well and here he was taking care of her. She felt like such an asshole. She always used everyone else to bandage her hurt, and ignored everyone else's pain. She couldn't deal with her own, how could she deal with theirs?

"Dawn?" She managed to force out in her hoarse voice. She looked at the door wondering if Dawn was hearing the whole commotion.

"Dawn's not here. She wasn't here when I brought you home and she hasn't come in." Buffy nodded thankfully. She remembered that Dawn was going over to Janice's house.

Buffy's breathing was ragged but she was no longer crying. She wiped away the traitorous tears. Spike let her go when it was clear she could hold herself up. She swung her legs over the bed and stood up, on hand clutching her stomach. It's not liked she had never had sex before but this was different.

"Wha—what do you think you're doing?" Spike stood up watching her move about an incredulous expression on his face. "Get back in bed!"

"I can't, I have to meet Giles and the gang at the Magic Box, and we have to research some prophecy or other." Spike's sensitive hearing heard her breath hitch as she pulled clothes out of her dresser.

"Buffy…"

"Spike. If you have nothing better to do you should probably leave. The sun will be up soon."

"Something better-? Are you bleeding bad, woman?" He gripped her and turned her towards him. She averted her gave and he grabbed her chin, forcing the watering eyes to look into his.

"You don't want to talk to me about it, fine, though I think you'll fine I understand a lot more than you think. I can call Willow, I can call whoever you want, but you can't just shove it away and pretend nothing happened. You're not the slayer right now, you're Buffy, and you're hurting, whether you want to admit that or not."

"I'm fine." She answered him coolly. " So what, he did what he did, that kind of stuff happens every day and people get over it. I'm not going to die from it."

Those sad eyes looked at her. "Maybe so. But it will claw at you till you fear you'll go mad and you won't know whether to kill yourself or go on a homicidal rampage. But if you want to risk that, then feel free."

Buffy looked at him for a moment, feeling that he was speaking the truth, she just didn't know where it came from.

"You knew somebody?" She asked quietly.

He fidgeted. "Something like that luv, it's a bit of a complicated story, not suitable for right now. Just call the watcher and tell him you're sick or something. I'll leave if you want to be alone, but trust me when I say, normal life isn't something you'll be able to deal with right now."

Buffy nodded. She knew it was true, she'd just go to the Magic Box and wish she were at home. No where would be where she wanted to be, which was before this all happened.

Spike slipped out of the room as she picked up the phone. When Giles picked up she felt her mouth go dry. She cleared her throat. "Giles? I'm not gonna be able to make it. I'm feeling really crappy."

"Oh. Do you need someone to come over?"

"No, no, I'm fine, just feeling junky," she let out in a rush.

"Alright then. Feel better." She stared at the phone for a moment, realizing how normal it had gone.

Speaking of gone. "Spike!" She called. She half tumbled down the stairs. He looked at her, standing in the doorway with his duster on, which she had never even seen him grab.

"You staying here today?"

She nodded. "Y-You're leaving?"

"Yeah, luv, figured I better go now or that whole "fire" thing happens."

She looked at him helplessly. "Do you want me to stay?" Buffy nodded shyly. He closed the door and threw his duster on the couch. "Then stay I will. You should probably eat something…this is the normal human eating time, is it not?" She nodded again and made her way into the kitchen. Spike sunk down on the couch with a sigh.

Buffy stared at the empty bowl in front of her, wondering what was wrong with her. She had been raped last night, and here she was asking the guy who had almost raped her to stay and comfort her. She shook her head, disgusted. He'd leave if she asked him to, but she didn't want to ask him to. Though the others didn't get it, she understood why he had done it. He loved her and she just kept giving her love and taking it back and giving it, playing mind games with him because she couldn't figure out her own problems. He had wanted her to love him, and to stick with it. She just couldn't get passed certain things about him.

She poured herself a bowl of cereal and went out to join him. She sat on the other side of the couch, putting distance between them and was thankful when he pretended not to notice. He had put the television on and was watching some soap opera. Though she didn't really like them, they did the trick of numbing her mind.

She blinked when a hand shook her awake. Spike loomed above her and she felt swamped by panic. He took a few steps away from her, letting her feel like she had some space.

Spike looked nervous and Buffy had a sinking feeling that she wasn't going to like what he had to say.

"Have you…thought about going to the hospital? They do rape kits…" He mumbled and spoke softly but she heard what he said.

"No, no way Spike! I can't even believe you'd suggest that." Spike flinched but she kept going. "That would mean everybody would know…and I already know who he is. I'll take care of him myself."

"Who is he?" Spike demanded. She just rolled her eyes.

"Drop it. He's mine. You don't get to go have a possessive killing thing, alright?" She turned her back to him. She felt bad when she heard him quietly get up and walk out of the room.

* * *

Buffy looked at Greg across the table, his brown hair flopped cutely in his eyes. She was laughing at something he had said but she couldn't remember what. It felt so good to be dating someone normal, someone human, for once in a long time. She knew dating with normal guys usually didn't work out, but Greg seemed really nice.

"I know this really nice bar, if you wanna grab a quick drink." She nodded at his suggestion, smiling happily. He didn't think she was weird and he wanted to grab a drink. This night was great. They grabbed a table by the back, shut off from the rest of the bar by a half wall, right next to the exit. She always liked being near the exit, it was a quick escape route rather than trying to wade through crowds of people.

Greg went up to get their drinks. He set her rum and coke down with a small smile. It looked like he had gotten the same thing. They chit chatted a bit more, but Greg wasn't putting the effort in, instead he let his gaze wander around the portion of the room they could see. No one was this far back, they were all up front.

She felt like she was getting a headache and rubbed her temples, apologizing. "It's fine." He had said. She didn't catch the glint in his eye. Her vision started going gray, and she felt suddenly exhausted. "Wha-?" Greg came around to her side of the table and lifted her up. "It'll be all right, you'll be fine." He said as he took them out of the exit door. She was so thankful that he was with her to take care of her. She didn't know what was going on. She blacked out.

She came to, partially, her mind still foggy and slow. She was laying on a bed, her dress up around her waist. And there was Greg, pumping roughly into her, looking at the ceiling. She came in and out of consciousness and every time it just seemed to get rougher. Her wrists hurt and she felt his nails dig into her hips. When he was finally spent he slid off of her and went into the next room. Buffy's survival instinct kicked in and she stumbled her way out onto the balcony, almost falling from his second story window. She managed to get down safely and she booked it, heading towards home. Her feet stung, but she couldn't seem to get her body to work the way she wanted it to. She slowed when she hit the cemetery, feeling drained, feeling the drugs working, trying to drag her under again. Then she heard the voice and soon she was being carried away, put in bed. She knew she was safe with him to look after her. She fell asleep.

* * *

She woke up disoriented, crying. She didn't know where she was. Spike came rushing in, looking concerned. He sat next to her and she clung onto him. He petted her hair, whispering things to her that she couldn't really hear and didn't really care, just that there was someone with her.

"I just want it to go away." She said softly when she was all cried out.

"I know you do. And people will say that all wounds will heal in time and all that bullocks, but that's not true. It will always be with you, some days closer than others, some days you won't even think about it. But little things will set you off, and then you'll pull it back together and move on. That's all you can do."

She smiled weakly at him. "And when did you get to be so knowledgeable about this kind of stuff?" She still couldn't force herself to say rape. She knew that would take time.

He shrugged, uncomfortable. "I've known people."

"Tell me, please." It wasn't that she wanted to hear horrible tales; it's that she wanted to know how they had coped.

He shook his head firmly. "No, neither of us needs that right now."

"Spike-"

"No, you may not realize this slayer, but you don't need to ruin the things you have known, you don't need to know everything, and there are some…thing I'd like you to keep believing."

"Spike, please tell me." She felt her stomach clench at the look in his eyes. Pain and shame. She used her strength to keep him from getting up, clinging to him. "Please." She repeated.

Spike nodded tensely, leaning back against the couch, looking at the black television and not at her.

"Dru turned me, so technically I'm her childe, but being that, I am also in Darla and Angelus's bloodline. Vampires have always had a dominant culture…you dominate those beneath you. It's how it's always been. Certain vampires have different ways of doing it. But some ways are easier to do.

Angelus never liked my attitude, he didn't like my relationship with Dru….he just didn't like me and I didn't like him. And I did what I wanted, for the most part. Well, Angelus decided he needed to take control of the situation. He sent the girls away, on a trip, he told Dru, so she'd agree to go. That left just us in a rundown mansion where we were squatting.

"Childe's are obedient to their superiors. You are going to be put in your place." And…he did just that. He put me in my place. It's one thing to be raped, and he has an insatiable sexual appetite so rape happened often, but he's always been the master of mind games…and he manages to twist it all up so it's your fault. He liked to burn me with crosses and holy water, stab me with stakes where they wouldn't kill me, just hurt like a bitch. In the end…I just became accustomed to it. I said nothing. I stopped feeding until he ordered me to. I knew he'd just rape me until I did it. And the more I did what he wanted, the less it happened. I lost my will to fight it and submitted…like he wanted me to.

Darla knew what he was planning, but when the girls came back everything went "back to normal" but at the same time was completely different. I didn't get myself back until after Angelus was cursed with a soul. Being around them….I always knew the threat was there, and it happened several times after that, when I did something he didn't like. But like I said. I know what you're going through. Or maybe I didn't say it. But I do know what you're going through. I mean, it's different, obviously, but…" He trailed off his rambling, pointedly not looking at Buffy, preparing for her to yell at him about lying about Angel, to tell him to leave.

He wasn't prepared to feel the wetness and heat touch his hand as she rested her cheek against it. He felt tears in his own eyes and pressed his head against Buffy's. He had never told anyone, not even Dru. He had never been away of how much it hurt, even a hundred years after the fact.

"How did you survive it?" Her voice was choked, more from the suffering he had gone through than for her own. To realize that Spike had been through such a brutal thing and for so many years and yet none of them had known. He hadn't trusted any of them enough to tell them, and why should he have? They never gave him a reason to trust them.

"Same way you will, pet." He told her, running his hand through her hair. When she looked at him, she was beginning to see someone who was so different than she thought he was. It surprised her and put her off balance.

"How can you stand to be around him? Even if he is Angel now?"

"It's hard." He admitted. "The demon in him knows who I am and wants me back. And Angel remembers…I don't think he feels any remorse about it. He's always been the type to just move on. It doesn't affect him. So I try to ignore it when he's around…for you're sake. I know how much you like him."

"Fuck him," Buffy spat out. "This is about you, not him." Spike just shook his head.

"I shouldn't have said anything, it's not important and it happened so long ago. You have your own problems to deal with. Now. You don't need to think about mine. They're fine. Non-issues."

Buffy should her head sadly. He didn't realize that by talking about his problems he was helping the pain go away, just a little. And it hurt to know that he thought that she shouldn't care about it. That what he had been through didn't matter.

She let the subject drop and with her head in his lap, and his rhythmic petting of her hair, she fell back asleep.


End file.
